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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696741">To Cry When The Sun Shines</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilas/pseuds/soleilas'>soleilas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>100wordsprompts, Historical Hetalia, Historical Inaccuracy, Horses, M/M, Promises, RusAme, Sunflowers, historical facts, prompt was field</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:53:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilas/pseuds/soleilas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"One day," Alfred stared down at the flower in Ivan's clammy hands, "I'll plant you a whole field." </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>America/Russia (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Cry When The Sun Shines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Random prompt one: field.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the longest time, Ivan had always compared Alfred to a bird, perhaps even Alfred's own national animal, a Bald Eagle. It fit him, Alfred's heart belonged in the sky, and even from his earliest days, Alfred never looked below the horizon. </p>
<p>But now, with Alfred leaning against the warm neck of a racing horse, his own hair, and smile wild, Ivan decided that perhaps he was more like a horse than anything else. </p>
<p>"Hey, big guy, what are you thinking about?" Alfred had reined his horse so that he was trotting along next to Ivan. </p>
<p>"How you are like a horse," Ivan answered, his grip on his reins tight. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Alfred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Ah, that came out wrong. "I don't mean it in a bad way, America. The horse is often a symbol of freedom in art."</p>
<p>Alfred's protests died on his lips, and he leaned forward with interest. "Is that so?" </p>
<p>For a moment, longer than Ivan would like to admit, he was taken away by the view. The horse was beautiful enough as it stood against the backdrop of waist-high wild grains and blue skies. It stood proudly, as if the whole field was its to claim. In a way, it was. Alfred had the same look of pride in the twinkle in his eyes and his breathless smile. Alfred was tan and covered in dirt, which, in Ivan's opinion, suited him far better than any uniform. This was quintessential America, bold, free, and bright against the sky. As if both the prairie and the sky was already his. </p>
<p>Ivan found it hard to speak, so instead, he cleared his throat and nodded. Alfred laughed loudly, his smile growing into a happy grin. </p>
<p>"Oh good, cause I thought this conversation was gonna go in a completely different way." </p>
<p>Alfred's playful grin was contagious, especially so as Ivan's lips curled into a fond smile. For a minute, there was a comfortable silence between the two. They sat there as if they were just Ivan and Alfred. Here, history did not matter. What mattered what the moment that they were sharing. They were human here. </p>
<p>"Hey, there's something I want to show you." Alfred shifted, his gaze strangely fond. "You might remember it."</p>
<p>Now, Ivan was curious. After all, he had thousands of memories, especially when it came to America. He wasn't sure how Alfred was so confident he'd remember, but there was no harm in playing along. Perhaps, Alfred would be right. </p>
<p>Alfred led the way down the worn trail that was hard to see between clumps of wild wheat and wildflowers. They brushed long the seams in his pants and moved in the wind along with them. Briefly, he wondered how Alfred's hair matched the grain. </p>
<p>Amber waves of grain, Ivan pondered with amusement. Indeed, America was beautiful, but Ivan wondered if the song had focused on the wrong America. If the land around them was breathtaking, what was Alfred? Ivan knew the answer before he even thought of the question. How could he not? Alfred was the definition of magnificent. He held everything that made this land so irresistible. The stubborn frown, those were the mountains refusing to fall even as water and wind cut around them. The sky that seemed to go on forever, that was his eyes. The freedom that came from every step you took or every laugh that rang in the air? Well, that was Alfred himself. </p>
<p>"Close your eyes; I want to make this a surprise." Alfred turned and gave him a light smile. "I promise no crazy business." </p>
<p>Ivan humored him and closed his eyes, his breath picking up as the horse continued down the dusty trail. Perhaps, he wasn't too keen on being blindly led somewhere. He trusted Alfred, though, so he kept his eyes shut. Things were different here; they were different now. </p>
<p>Ivan jerked in surprise as something soft trailed across his face, leaving a glistening trail of water across his pale cheek. He reached out blindly with one hand Ivan grasped the thick stem of a pant. Reaching up, Ivan followed the stem until his hand hit the soft petals of the plant; it was a flower. Ivan knew what flower it was. </p>
<p>"You can open your eyes now." Alfred's voice was nothing more than a revered whisper, so Ivan did. </p>
<p>A sunflower field. Alfred had brought him to a sunflower field. The graceful flowers reached up towards the sky, brushing against Ivan's cheeks as he turned to stare at Alfred. </p>
<p>"June 1810." Alfred paused and added in case Ivan did not remember, "Fedor Pahlen."</p>
<p>Ivan hummed in agreement. "The first Russian minister in United States soil." </p>
<p>Ivan remembered quite clearly. Alfred had been a lot smaller, still barely independent, and not more than a young teenager. Yet, he had approached Ivan and addressed him as an equal. Ivan had been interested then, if not already fascinated by the young man. He took in all of America, his wild free wonder, and had questioned whether there was anything more powerful. </p>
<p>Later, sometime in Ivan's stay, Alfred had handed him a sunflower. His eyes had been bright and curious, and Alfred whispered his gratitude. Briefly, they had talked. Ivan, who was still in awe at this bold creature that seemed to break through every cage placed around him, couldn't do more than smile and agree. </p>
<p>"One day," Alfred stared down at the flower in Ivan's clammy hands, "I'll plant you a whole field." </p>
<p>Ivan had only smiled before letting the boy go. </p>
<p>"Well, I kept my promise." Alfred beamed at Ivan, his eyes wavering with an unreadable emotion. Ivan had a feeling he knew what it was; It was the same feeling he felt when he met Alfred's gaze or watched Alfred smile. It was the same feeling he felt when watching Alfred riding across an empty prairie on a horse or as Alfred laid against him sleeping. </p>
<p>As he gazed out over thousands of sunflowers, Ivan could only cry.</p>
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